


The Dark Lord's Curse

by thegreatexploress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Slow Burn, Time Travel, Unspeakable Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23470462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatexploress/pseuds/thegreatexploress
Summary: *Currently Being Rewritten* When Draco succumbs to Voldemort’s final curse, Hermione is sent back in time to stop Voldemort once and for all.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Hermione Granger
Comments: 29
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! This will be the longest story I’ve written so far and it’s going to be quite the ride. Though I’ve listed romance as one of the genres, this is primarily an adventure/self-discovery story. It’s going to be a long time until we see Sirius/Hermione, but I promise you that it will be worth the wait.
> 
> That being said, this is a unique story. I’ve never come across a story quite like this and I’m so excited to explore and share it with you. I hope you love it as much as I do :).
> 
> Everything you recognize belongs to the lovely JK Rowling.

**Part 1: The Legacy**

**Chapter 1**

The Department of Mysteries was busier than usual for a Wednesday morning. Hermione frowned as she weaved her way through the crowded corridors, both curious and annoyed at what had her coworkers in an uproar. Their hushed tones made it impossible for her to hear what was going on.

On a normal day, Hermione would’ve tried to get to the bottom of it. She loved her job as an Unspeakable and if the whole department was excited about something, then chances were that she would be too. That was the best thing about her job. Her coworkers loved knowledge just as much as she did.

But today, she couldn’t be bothered with the latest gossip.

When she reached her office, Hermione shut the door and leaned back against the cheap wood. No matter what happened in the outside world, this was her safe place. It had been her escape from home for the past few months. Already, she could feel the tension in her neck loosen. She felt like she could breathe again.

Shaking her head to clear those thoughts, Hermione walked to her desk and took a seat. She was about to look through her memos when a knock on the door interrupted her. Stifling a groan, she told them to enter.

Her boss’ secretary poked her head in. “Mrs Malfoy? Mr Walters wants to see you.”

“Does it have anything to do with the commotion going on outside?” Hermione asked. “And please call me Hermione.”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that. If you could come by soon, that would be great.”

“Thanks, Joan.”

The secretary lingered in the doorway. “I just wanted to say congratulations. It’s not every day your husband gets selected to run for Minister for Magic,” Joan blushed. “You and Mr Malfoy are the ultimate power couple.”

“Thank you. I’m very proud of him,” Hermione smiled but let it fall as soon as Joan closed the door.

Her gaze was drawn to the muggle picture of her and Draco on her desk. It was one of her favourites, taken on holidays in Greece a couple of years ago. Her head was thrown back in laughter and Draco wore the biggest grin. They were both tanned and looked so young.

Hermione couldn’t remember what they were laughing about, but back then, it didn’t take much. Making him smile had been one of her favourite things to do. It made his whole face change.

But it had been a long time since they’d laughed together, let alone smiled at each other.

Getting up, she made her way to her boss’ office. Her mind ran through the possibilities of what he wanted to talk about. Most likely, it was a new assignment. She’d just finished her research on magical DNA a few weeks ago and had finally tied up the project’s loose ends.

Though the department’s uproar this morning made her nervous. With Draco running for Minister, the last thing she needed was more excitement in her life. Too soon, she arrived at Walters’ office. Joan waved her in from her desk outside and Hermione slipped into the room.

Her boss was in the middle of scribbling something down but looked up at her arrival and smiled. George Walters was an eccentric looking man. His grey hair was always in a state of disarray and his spectacles were always crooked. So crooked that you had to restrain yourself from fixing them. He was odd, but he was a genius. It was strange how often that combination proved true.

“Hermione! Excellent. Please have a seat.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Joan told me you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours going around?” Walters said.

She shook her head. “I’m afraid my mind has been elsewhere.”

“Ah, your husband’s run for Minister. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, leaning forward. “Why is everyone so excited today?”

That was the right question to ask because his whole face lit up. “My whole life, I’ve been looking for this. I knew that I was close, but I was scared that the discovery would happen after my lifetime. It was regrettable that we lost Melanie of course, but –“

“What do you mean we lost Melanie?”

She wasn’t close to the Unspeakable, but Hermione did work with her on occasion. Melanie was an older Unspeakable, close to retiring, and had always been kind to Hermione. This was a blow to the department.

Though Melanie was known for being meticulous and careful, so if she was lost… What did they find?

“I’m sorry, my excitement got the best of me. Let me start over. Yesterday, we found King Arthur’s tomb.”

“Really? That’s incredible,” Hermione said, her full attention on Walters. The implications of this could change magic as they knew it. “How? What did you find?”

Her boss smiled, though it was sadder now. “Melanie found it. She followed the procedure to the letter, but our protocols are only in place for modern magic…”

“You said she was lost… does that mean that she disappeared? She could still be alive?”

“Yes. Precisely. Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing if she’ll return to us until we know more about the tomb.”

Hermione leaned back in her chair. This was… huge. People had been searching for King Arthur’s tomb for centuries. Not much was known about the time of Arthur and Merlin except for the myths and legends that surrounded them. It was one of the reasons the subject wasn’t covered at Hogwarts.

“What does this have to do with me?” Hermione asked.

“I want you to lead this project.”

Hermione had been prepared to hear many things, but this was not one of them. She was still relatively new to the department. There were senior Unspeakables that were more qualified to lead such an enormous project.

But, a project like this would make her career.

“Why me?”

“You know that things are run differently in this department. Leading a project has nothing to do with age, but with ability and magic compatibility,” Walters explained.

“Yes, but-“

He frowned. “Do you doubt your magical ability, Mrs Malfoy? You have accomplished some incredible things in this department already. Your research into magical DNA is going to be a boon for the magical world for decades to come. And that’s without bringing up your adventures at Hogwarts.”

“Thank you, sir. This is a huge opportunity.”

“It is. I had to make sure that I selected the right person for it,” Walters said. “Once you sign the confidentiality contract, I will have Melanie’s notes and the report of her disappearance brought to your office. I want a list of who you want on your team by the end of the day.”

“Yes, sir. I will review it with Joan and get started,” Hermione said standing up. “I do appreciate this opportunity.”

“I know. You’re going to make us proud.”

When Hermione reached the door, she paused. “What do you think happens to those that disappear? Do you think they’re still alive?”

“I know most think they die,” Walters said, pondering her question. “I like to think they go somewhere magical and see things that we can only begin to imagine. But maybe I’ve read the Chronicles of Narnia one too many times.”

She smiled and left, dropping by Joan’s office. The contract was already drawn up and ready to sign. Hermione read over it carefully, relieved that it was the standard contract. It prevented her from revealing the project or its secrets to those outside of the department.

After Rookwood spilt department secrets to Voldemort, Walters implemented stricter security measures. The knowledge they found was dangerous in the wrong hands, which is why even the Minister for Magic didn’t know of the work that happened here. It was the Ministry’s most secretive department.

Once she signed the contract, the day flew by in a flurry of reports. Hermione had finished reading through Melanie’s notes. It wasn’t exactly clear how Melanie had figured out where the tomb was. She had kept that information hidden.

Hermione wasn’t surprised at her secrecy. Even with the contract, the information here wasn’t completely safe. It was still unknown how many Unspeakables were Voldemort sympathizers. Hermione didn’t like to dwell on those types of thoughts, it was too easy to become paranoid.

From her digging, it seemed like the wards might’ve had something to do with her disappearance. The ward disabling sounded very intricate. It had taken several curse breakers and ward specialists to figure out how to deactivate them. Wards were tricky and that was before you threw old magic into the mix.

Though according to the reports, the wards were successfully disabled. They had run the usual tests multiple times to make sure. But something had gone wrong, though no one knew what. They had managed to open the tomb, a large room in a cave, and had started cataloguing its contents.

One minute, Melanie was staring at King Arthur’s bones, and the next, she had disappeared. They had conducted a full search of the site. Tried everything they could to locate the lost Unspeakable. But the search was fruitless.

Joan knocked on her door, startling her. “Do you have your team list? I’m about to head home for the day.”

“I do,” Hermione said, grabbing the piece of parchment and handing it to her. “What time is it?”

“A little after six.”

She cursed and quickly stood up. “I can’t believe it’s already six. Thank you for grabbing the list. I got caught up in the project.”

“I knew you’d be a great choice. Have a good night.”

Hermione barely heard her as she applied her usual wards on her office and got ready to leave. Draco was going to kill her for being late to his event. If she hurried, she had just enough time to change into a different outfit. Hermione would still be late, but it was better than nothing.

#

The event was in full swing when she arrived. Draco had rented a couple of conference rooms at the new hotel on Diagon Alley. It was a great choice with its classic architecture. The venue would be appealing to both the old and new generations.

Hermione tried to sneak in unnoticed, knowing it was probably a lost cause. As Draco's wife, people would be searching for her. But it was good to be optimistic. Her hopes were dashed when Draco’s public relations person approached her.

“Nice of you to show up,” Kennedy said.

Kennedy was the type of witch that Narcissa Malfoy would’ve approved of. She was tall, thin, and everything about her screamed elegance. Though tonight, her heels were a little too tall and the slit of her dress ran a little too high.

Hermione wasn’t surprised at the witch’s coldness, nor her outfit. She had suspected for some time that Kennedy was trying to seduce her husband. The difficult part was that she was subtle, too subtle for Hermione to bring it up with Draco. And Hermione wasn’t sure that she cared enough to cause a fuss about it either.

The thought chilled her to the bone.

“Didn’t think you’d notice me with all your attention on Draco,” Hermione said. “He’s so lucky to have such a… dedicated worker.”

“Careful, the press is going to start wondering why you’re late.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure they have more important things to focus on.”

“No, they love a good affair story. It’s what sells,” Kennedy smirked, reminding her far too much of her husband. Though she lacked Draco’s intelligence. No one would be accusing Hermione of an affair; her workaholic tendencies were well known. “PR is my speciality, remember?”

“In that case, maybe you should rethink your wardrobe,” Hermione said, relieved to see Harry at the bar. “Because they sure as hell won’t be talking about me.”

She left before Kennedy could reply. Because Draco was now in full campaign mode, Hermione would be seeing a lot more of the witch. It was just one of the many things that she hated about the whole thing. Hermione was a private person. Unfortunately, her life was to become a lot more public for the foreseeable future.

“Hermione, I was scared you were going to leave me alone at one of these things,” Harry said, getting up to hug her.

She relaxed into the familiar embrace before releasing him. Hermione didn’t realize how much she needed to see her best friend. Even after all this time, they were still close. He was family. After everything they’d been through together, how could he not be?

“I’ve missed you. Where’s Ginny?”

“Her morning sickness turned into feeling nauseous all day, so she stayed home with James. She’s sorry she can’t be here.”

“I’m sorry too. I feel like I haven’t seen you both in forever,” Hermione said after ordering her drink.

He chuckled. “It’s been a long time. Sometimes I think we need to break into the Department of Mysteries to rescue you from work.”

“Wouldn’t that be something? Though my boss secretly would love that.”

“I’ll have to tell Ginny and Ron to start preparing.”

Hermione grabbed her drink from the bartender and turned back to Harry when she saw his expression change.

She had never talked to Harry about her marriage troubles, nor did he ever bring it up. But somehow, he knew. Maybe it was the familial bond they shared. They were both orphans in the wizarding world, though the Weasleys had adopted them both. Harry had become a little more guarded around her husband lately.

“Potter, mind if I steal my wife?” Draco said behind her.

“Not at all. Congrats again. I’m sure we’ll be celebrating your Minister win before too long,” Harry said before excusing himself.

Hermione wanted to tell Harry to stay, but she knew it wasn’t a fair thing to ask. There were some battles you had to face alone. Hermione turned around and was surprised at Draco’s nearness. She had to tilt her head up to look at him.

“How nice of you to show up,” Draco said, wrapping his arms around her. “For a moment there, I thought you were going to stand me up.”

“We’re not on a date, so I wouldn’t be standing you up. I got caught up in work.”

He chuckled, though there was no humour in his gaze. That’s when she knew that he was being affectionate for the cameras. There was always an ulterior motive these days. “I shouldn’t have to send my wife a memo to remind her to attend my campaign events.”

“Can we not do this right now?”

“Should I book a meeting with your secretary? Right, I can’t visit you at work because you’re an Unspeakable. Do you even have a secretary?” he asked. “Don’t forget to smile darling, we’re in public remember?”

Hermione wanted to leave. It was the same thing every time they saw each other. He was always unhappy about something and he attacked. Lately, it was about her work. Draco had been the one that encouraged her to pursue being an Unspeakable after the war. Funny that he had grown to resent the secrecy that surrounded it.

“I’m not doing this right now,” Hermione said, smiling as widely as she could, mocking him.

“Be a dear and kiss me for the cameras. It’s time for my speech.”

Before she could even think to step away, he kissed her. And for a moment, Hermione forgot about everything. It was just her and her husband, the man she fell in love with. The familiar scent of pine, the way he held her face like she was something precious… but the whistles and flashing cameras brought her right back to the present and she pulled away.

Draco searched her expression for a moment, before turning to the press. Her cheeks felt warm and she wanted desperately to escape into the crowd. But her husband still had an arm around her and she knew that she had to stay. Play the part of the loving wife.

“If you will all join me in the banquet room, we will be serving dinner shortly,” Draco said to the crowd. He leaned in towards her and whispered, “For a moment, I actually believed you still loved me.”

He walked towards the banquet room leaving her alone. The parade of people followed in his wake, hoping to gain his favour in case he won the election. The same people that had cursed him in the streets five years ago and called him a murderer. Life was funny that way.

His words repeated over and over in her head. _For a moment, I actually believed you still loved me._

She did love Draco. She always would. But her husband had become a stranger, a man she barely recognized most of the time.

Was it possible to both love and hate your husband?


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you hear about the Death Eater they found the other day?" Ron asked over lunch a few days later.

The days had started to blur together between her project at work and being present for Draco's campaign. Kennedy had arranged for him to appear at an event every night, sometimes two a night. It was exhausting. And Hermione had to attend most of them with him. It helped Draco's image as a politician to have his doting wife present. And though their marriage was on the rocks, she would never sabotage his chances.

Hermione looked up from her salad. "What happened?"

"Same thing that happened to the Death Eaters in Azkaban a year ago. Sudden death, looked like they'd been burned from the inside out."

"How long ago did the Death Eater die?" she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Maybe six months ago? The man was in a right nasty state," he said, shoving more food in his mouth. The pungent smell of onions coming from his dish was making her slightly nauseous. "Muggle couple found him in an abandoned cabin in Ireland."

The familiar fear filled her. These deaths had started happening shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts. They always died the same way, burned from the inside out. It only happened to Death Eaters, and it seemed to occur at random. There was no way to predict which one would die next or how much time they had left.

It was like someone was systematically taking them out; only no one knew how they were doing it. The Death Eaters in Azkaban had all been killed, in maximum security. The Ministry launched a massive investigation to determine if it was an inside job.

No one was proven guilty, and the trail ran cold.

Hermione also knew that the murders weren't getting the attention that they should. If it were happening to anyone else, it would be the Auror Department's top priority. But because it was former Death Eaters, no one cared enough. Didn't people realize that some Death Eaters were branded against their will? Or had been in way over their heads?

And, the thought that refused to leave: When would it be Draco's turn?

As if Ginny could read her mind, she reached out and grabbed her hand. "If the last death was six months ago, maybe the killer stopped."

"That's what we hoped for last time. How can I protect Draco?” Hermione asked.

"Malfoy can handle himself," Ron said, pushing his empty plate away. "So far it hasn't hit any of the reformed Death Eaters."

"This person is bound to make a mistake. We'll catch them," Harry assured her.

Ginny nodded. "With Draco running for office, he can make this a top priority."

"The person responsible wouldn't dare to go after Malfoy. Not with you in the picture," Ron said. "I swear more people are scared of you than Harry or me."

"One thing I've learned is to never get on your bad side," Harry agreed.

With the change in conversation, they kept the rest of the conversation light. Too soon, it was time to leave. They promised to meet up again soon, but at this point, it was a dance they did every time. Harry and Ginny had James, with another one on the way. Ron had just proposed to his girlfriend. Hermione was caught up in her latest project, and with Draco's campaign, there was never enough time.

Hermione watched her friends leave, making sure they were safe, before apparating home.

She paused once she arrived in their townhouse, listening to see if Draco was home. When silence greeted her, she relaxed and took off her coat and shoes. Hermione had notes on the Death Eater murders in her study that she wanted to review. She already knew the file by heart, but maybe there was something she missed.

Hermione walked into her study and froze when she saw Draco. He was sitting in her reading nook, looking worse for wear. His hair was a mess, and his usually perfect clothes were wrinkled. Her husband held a worn book between his hands. She didn't need to look closely to know it was Pride and Prejudice. Their book.

"I still remember the first time you compared me to Mr Darcy," he said with a small chuckle. "We were in the middle of a row, and you made some reference to him. I hated not knowing what the insult meant."

"So you bought the book and read it," Hermione said, leaning back against her desk. It had been a long time since they had revisited this part of memory lane.

He nodded. "And I realized how much you were like Elizabeth."

"We were both very stubborn and prideful."

She smiled, thinking of their early days. Everyone had returned to Hogwarts after the war to redo their final year. You could cut the tension in the halls with a knife. Everyone was grieving and trying to heal in their own way. Draco had kept to himself, whereas Hermione became overly social. It wasn't until they were paired up for a project that they started to slow road to friendship. It didn't take long for her to fall in love with him after that.

"Do you think their marriage survived?"

His question was like a punch to the gut. They had been dancing around this subject, the resentment between them building until they were only two strangers living in a house together. "I don't know."

"Hermione, what are we doing?" he asked, putting the book down beside him.

"Why do you keep putting this on me? I told you that I didn't want you running for Minister. This was never in our plan!"

He stood up, face flushed. "You've seen the state of things. I needed to step up and do my part."

"But that's the thing. We never talked about it. The whole time we've been together, we've been a team," Hermione said, the words getting stuck in her throat. "This stopped working when you stopped turning to me."

"I'm sorry. I should've talked to you about it," Draco said, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her.

Hermione wanted to continue to resist him, but her body disobeyed and relaxed into his familiar warmth. "I told you I didn't want this."

"If you ask me to withdraw, I will," he said, his voice hoarse.

She stepped back, not trusting herself when he was touching her. It reminded her of better days of getting lost in each other. She wanted to give in, to forget how much he'd hurt her the past few months. "Now what kind of wife would I be if I asked you to do that."

The sound of children screaming and laughing outside startled her. She moved towards the window, needing to put some space between her and Draco. It was a dreary, rainy day though that didn't stop the kids from playing in the playground.

Draco came to stand next to her. They both watched the children try to run up the slide. "What am I supposed to do? You won't tell me to quit, and you won't support me. I'm trying to fight for this marriage, but I need you to meet me halfway."

She turned to face him, trying to blink away her tears. "I was there," Hermione said, poking his chest. "But you changed this summer, and now it's like I barely know you. You stopped talking to me. You started creating plans without me. You left me!"

He grabbed her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, causing her mouth to go dry. "I want to fix this."

"You always told me to tell you when you were getting too caught up in power, to pull you back," Hermione said, her cheeks wet. "I'm pulling you back, Draco."

"I… can't," he said, turning away from her. "I wish I could walk away. Live the life that we'd imagined, keep a low profile. But I can't."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Why not?"

He swivelled to face her, his eyes alive in a way she hadn't seen in a long time. "Because the world hasn't changed. There's still division. We have no unified direction, and I know that I can provide that for everyone. Together, we can make a better world."

"I don't want to hear your campaign speech."

He ran his fingers through his hair, a sign he was losing his patience. "I thought you of all people would understand. Remember S.P.E.W.? What happened to that girl?"

"I'm still here! I'm making my mark on the world, in my way. But I can see right through your bullshit, Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, taking a step forward. "Did someone sell you a dream of the past when the Malfoys were in power? Is being with me not good enough?"

"So you're allowed to make your mark, and I'm supposed to hold your purse? Is that it?" he said, closing the distance between them. "Maybe you should've married Weasley."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Real mature. I don't know why I bother."

"Then why are you still here? You can walk away at any time."

"So can you."

"I don't want to walk away," he said.

Following his declaration, Draco kissed her. This time there were no cameras, no one to impress. Hermione wanted him, needed to hurt him the way he'd hurt her. She could taste the salt from her tears, her fingers brushing against his stubble.

"It's been so long," he groaned as she trailed kisses down his neck.

"Whose fault is that?"

Draco grabbed her legs in response, forcing her to wrap them around him. In two steps, they reached her desk where he propped her up. The wood was cold against her flushed skin. Hermione grabbed his shirt and pulled him against her.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so that she was forced to look into his stormy gaze. "You're mine."

"Am I? I thought that was Kennedy."

She felt a grim satisfaction when her insult hit its mark. In the past, her whole body would flush in delight at his claim. It had been naïve of her to think that because they were married, that it meant forever. That their intense connection meant they were soulmates.

His fingers dug into her thighs. "You're my wife. How could you think…” he trailed off, then lightly kissed her cheek. "Let me prove it to you."

And he did. Hermione felt the walls she had carefully put up fall away until there was nothing left. She clung to him, resting her head on his damp chest. When it was over, Hermione had almost offered another round in their bedroom but he pulled away from her.

"I have to go," Draco said, not meeting her eyes.

"Where-?" she asked the now empty room.

She heard the floo activate and was left alone in rumpled clothes and smeared lipstick.

#

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she checked to see if Draco was sleeping next to her. His side of the bed remained untouched. He had spent the night somewhere else. For a moment yesterday, Hermione thought that this was a way for them to reconnect. She had been stupid enough to hope that maybe things were still salvageable. His abrupt departure and absence brought back her insecurities, and she hated it. Hated him for making her feel dirty and used.

But as much as she hated him (did she really?), Hermione knew that she would still try to keep him safe. Getting out of bed, she got ready and returned to her study. The scene of the crime. If it weren't for her soreness, Hermione might've imagined the whole thing. Her office looked like it always did, without an item out of place. Except for the copy of Pride and Prejudice in her reading nook. She walked over and grabbed it, cradling it to her chest as she tried to ignore the hurt.

This is what she had been talking about yesterday. Hermione had started to pull away from Draco because he wasn't present. She had tried for so long to keep things together. Tried to connect. But it had failed every time. Draco blamed the campaign, but Hermione knew that it was an excuse. For what, she wasn't sure.

Hermione grabbed the file she'd made on the Death Eater murders and headed downstairs to make coffee. She hated how often she glanced at the door whenever she imagined the sound of apparition or the floo turning on. Hated that she cared when she didn't want to anymore.

Coffee and bowl of cereal in hand, Hermione sat at the table and started pouring over her notes. Frowning at the bitterness of her coffee, she turned the first page. There had to be something that she missed. That someone had overlooked. But each page she read only lead to further disappointment until there was nothing left to review.

If there was a clue hidden within, she couldn't find it.

#

"It's killing me that I can't tell anyone about this," Stacey said, taking pictures of the room. "The most well preserved historical find and we can't say a thing!"

"And we're not going to get the credit," Greg said.

"I love my job, but I hate that I can't talk about the cool things I'm doing."

Hermione smiled at her colleagues' exchange. Choosing a team for this project had been difficult. Everyone at the office suddenly wanted to be her friend. It was crazy how transparent they were in their attempts at flattery.

Looking around the room, Hermione was happy with the team that she chose. Though they were a little silly and young, Stacey, Greg, Albert, and Roger were brilliant at their jobs. She knew she had offended her senior colleagues. But Walters had let her pick her team and she didn’t want to spend hours debating the pros and cons of traditional versus modern procedure.

Though she knew this was a unique project, she hadn't _known_. It wasn't until she had stepped into the room that she registered how huge this discovery was. Chainmail, chalices, jewellery, weapons, and furniture filled the room like a storage room. And, there was no sign of dust or rust anywhere. It was like the room had been frozen in time, waiting for them.

"I bet you a galleon that this isn't King Arthur," Roger said, looking up from his notes.

Albert rolled his eyes. "I feel bad about taking such easy money. Have you seen this casket? This isn't some random foot soldier."

"It could be anyone royal."

"No, the weaponry is consistent with the period he lived in."

Hermione watched them analyze the casket. It was strange being the leader of this project. Usually, she was right in the thick of things. There were several times that she wanted to jump in and assist, but that was no longer her job.

Hermione quickly realized that project lead meant only doing the paperwork. Her days were spent submitting permit applications, talking with the curse breakers. She visited the site to see if her team needed anything. She needed to break up her day. Being the lead was an honour, but she missed being part of the action.

"There's a strange magical reading coming from inside the casket," Roger said, interrupting her train of thought.

She walked over to inspect the device. This was where Melanie had disappeared. Hermione was tempted to pull the team back, but the curse breakers had cleared the room (again) after Melanie went missing. The magical reading was higher than she'd ever seen before. What this meant, she wasn't sure.

Hermione inspected the tomb. It was a medieval, royal burial. A stone slab covered in runes rested over the grave. Someone magical was buried here. Hermione leaned in to get a closer look at the runes.

"They look familiar, right?" Albert said, crouching next to her. "I swear I've come across similar runes in my research."

Stacey joined them. "Nope. They don't look at all familiar to me. Though we all know runes are definitely not my thing."

"No one is to touch this until we know what those runes mean," Hermione said, turning towards the door. "This could tell us more about Melanie's disappearance and who is truly buried here."

The sound of stone grinding together caused her blood to go cold. Turning around, Hermione stumbled when she saw that the grave was now open. She scanned the room to make sure her team was still accounted for and safe.

"I'm sorry, I tripped and fell on it," Albert said sheepishly.

"Tripped?" Hermione repeated. "You could've gotten us all killed!"

"I know, ma'am, I'm sorry."

Hermione stopped glaring at him and carefully walked back towards the stone slab. Holding her breath, she peeked in and gasped. If this was real… this discovery was history in the making. She wished she had a camera, anything to preserve this moment.

Stacey leaned forward. "Is that Excalibur?"

"Blimey, I think it is," Greg said.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione had ordered her team to keep the discovery of Excalibur a secret. Though they were confident it was the legendary sword, they had to go through the proper protocols and procedures to verify its authenticity. Walters shared her excitement – as well as her caution. Anything of Merlin’s was highly coveted in the magical community, and many would try to get their hands on the famous sword. It was best to keep this hidden for as long as possible.

Though her life was a mess, every time her thoughts returned to Excalibur, her heart raced. Despite what Draco believed, Hermione did want to make a mark on the world. This project—though shrouded in secrecy—would be one of her greatest achievements.

So caught up in her thoughts, Hermione jumped when the fireplace roared to life. Quickly, she mentally went over Draco’s schedule. He should be attending dinner at some politician’s house. Ever since they slept together, Hermione had been avoiding Draco. Though part of her wanted an explanation for his behaviour, she was also scared to hear the answer. It was easier to pretend it had never happened.

His footsteps were getting louder. Steeling herself, Hermione stood up straight and rolled her shoulders back. At the last second—when the door opened—she decided to focus her attention on the apple slices she’d been eating instead. Though she wasn’t looking at him, Hermione could feel his every move. He paused in surprise when he saw her, then went about making tea.

“I thought you were at work,” Draco said, taking a seat at the breakfast counter with his steaming mug.

It took her a moment to find her voice. “I thought you had an event tonight.”

“I did. I didn’t end up going.”

“I see,” Hermione said, putting her dirty dish into the dishwasher. The relief at having an excuse to leave made her feel very un-Gryffindor. “Well, have a good night.”

“Hermione, wait,” Draco said, and she paused in the doorway, “I’m sorry about the other day.”

Her heart clenched at the reminder. “Which part? That we slept together, or that you left?”

Her question hung in the air, the elephant in the room finally acknowledged. Hermione raised an eyebrow when he didn’t answer, rolled her eyes, and left. It had been a long day at work, and the last thing she wanted was to fight with Draco. But she couldn’t deny that a little part of her was disappointed when he didn’t try to stop her from leaving.

Blinking away her tears, Hermione decided to go to bed early. Her study had always been her haven, but the recent memory with Draco had tainted it. She rushed through her bedtime routine, then burrowed herself in the safety of her covers. Her and Ginny had plans tomorrow, and she could finally talk to someone about her failing marriage.

She closed her eyes when Draco entered the bedroom. So used to his routine, Hermione could picture him walking towards the closet. Unlike her rushed undress, he always took his time. Growing up in a pureblood household made his actions elegant and graceful, no matter how mundane the task. After choosing his pyjamas with care, her husband moved to the bathroom.

It was moments like this where she faltered in the decision to leave him. Hermione knew her younger self would be furious with her hesitance to divorce him. Before the war, she used to see everything in black and white. And Hermione had used logic as a shield against the grey areas. Age and experience were the things that taught her that the world wasn’t as simple as she used to believe. Deciding between leaving or staying with him wasn’t as simple as making a list of pros and cons. If she divorced him, Hermione wouldn’t ever get these little moments with him. They’d never get ready for bed together, never share their days …they’d become strangers. The thought of that made it difficult to breathe.

Draco left the bathroom and carefully crawled into bed. Even his weight sinking into the mattress comforted her. She wanted him to reach out and pull her close like he used to. Was it pathetic that she was still waiting for him, after all this time? Hoping that he would cross that space between them once more, though last time had ended in disaster? The seconds stretched into minutes, and her eyelids started to feel heavy.

She was on the brink of sleep when he finally spoke.

“I fucked up. And it seems like I keep fucking up and hurting you, something I promised never to do,” Draco said quietly, “If you wanted to leave me, I wouldn’t blame you. I’d give you everything.”

The statement took her breath away, and the tears had returned. Hermione opened her mouth to talk, but the hurt was lodged so firmly in her throat, robbing her of the ability.

He sighed. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What I want is to have my husband back. That’s all I ever wanted, though it seems more impossible as time passes,” she said through her tears.

Draco reached out to hold her, but she didn’t give in. “Please. I can’t lay here and not hold you while you’re upset.”

“You didn’t seem to care when you left me in the office.”

“Please.”

It was the tone in his voice that made her finally relent. Hermione couldn’t face him, but let him spoon her. She hated how much she loved being in his arms, the warmth of his body comforting as she fell apart in his arms. Draco didn’t say anything, just held her through it, though she suspected that he was also crying by the moisture she felt in her hair.

They both fell asleep at some point, but something woke her in the middle of the night. Her head was groggy, making it difficult to think. Hermione listened to the quiet night, searching for what had woken her. Had someone broken in? But, only the usual house noises greeted her. She turned onto her back, careful not to wake Draco up when she saw it.

His dark mark seemed alive. Once Voldemort was defeated, all the dark marks had faded, making them look like botched tattoos with their blurred edges. But now, it was in its former glory. The snake looked poised to strike, the lines were crisp, and for a terrible moment, Hermione feared that Voldemort had returned. Which was impossible. They had destroyed his horcruxes. There was no doubt that Voldemort had died during the Final Battle. He was dead.

Then, why did Draco’s dark mark look new?

Her fingers ghosted over his mark, and she shuddered. The magic of the mark felt alive; there were no other words to describe it. The dark magic crawled over her skin, making her retreat to the other side of the bed to distance herself from it. She hated the residue that dark magic left behind. It reminded her too much of the days where her, Harry, and Ron were searching for horcruxes. The way the magic had brought their insecurities to the surface and tried to ruin their friendship. Dark magic felt tainted, oily, wrong.

Draco was still fast asleep, oblivious to her struggle. Hermione inched closer again, needing to make sure that this was real. She wasn’t sure if it was the low light, but it almost looked…green. It had to be the lack of lighting. Dark marks were black, not green. This time, when her fingers touched it, it was like the snake rose up and bit her. She startled back, looking at her unblemished finger and the inanimate snake.

She stayed on her side of the bed, as far away as possible from Draco, and debated what to do. Should she wake him up and ask him what was wrong with his mark? Hermione was concerned about the attack, but there wasn’t a physical wound. She performed a magical, meditative search that she’d learned at work to make sure it wasn’t attacking her magic. It wasn’t. Hermione wasn’t sure how much time passed as she tossed and turned, but she did manage to fall back asleep at some point.

#

Hermione woke up to Draco peppering kisses on the back of her neck. She smiled, blinking away the remnants of sleep away. The sunlight streamed into the room, reminding her that it was a Saturday. She frowned as she tried to remember the strange dream she’d had the night before. It had seemed so real. Something to do with Draco, magic…and snakes?

She turned to face him and grabbed his left hand, giving her an excuse to look at his arm. The mark was the same black blob it had always been. She traced the mark, unable to stop herself. Nothing.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked, his voice tense.

Hermione tensed, her mind racing to find an excuse. If there was something that Draco hated, it was his past as a Death Eater. And he wouldn’t find her dream from yesterday funny. “I was thinking about how far we’ve come. Everything was set against us,” she said, showing her own scar on her left arm, “But we prevailed. I guess I just remembered our beginning after your offer yesterday.”

He wrapped his arm around her, relaxing at her words. “We were always meant for each other. I don’t think anything could stop it.”

She used to love his declarations. It made their love feel certain, inevitable. But now, there was nothing but doubt. Were there such things as soulmates? There were billions of people in the world, and to have only one person that you were meant to be with was disappointing. It brought all her and Draco’s issues to the surface.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore,” Hermione said, rolling out of bed.

She was due to meet Ginny soon, and she needed some distance from Draco. He is nearness had always made her lose her senses. Even now, her body wanted to return to his side. She craved the feel of him, the way he tasted, responded to her. They’d always had a great sex life. In the past, Hermione would’ve tried to use sex as a way to reconnect. But, that had failed spectacularly.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Draco said from the bed, “I need you by my side.”

Hermione didn’t answer him. What was she supposed to say to that? She didn’t have a list of things he had to do to prove his love to her. Once trust was fractured, it took time to rebuild. When she stepped out of the shower, she wasn’t surprised to find Draco out of bed. He stood in front of her, his pyjama pants low on his hips, and it took all her strength not to lose her senses. All it would take was a step, and she’d be in his arms. The way his gaze roamed over her body made her shiver. She quickly turned away and headed to their closet.

“Can you stop for a minute so that we can talk?” Draco said, leaning against the doorframe.

Hermione changed into her summer dress before walking back to the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m meeting Ginny this morning. We do need to talk,” she conceded, “But I also need some time to sort out my thoughts. Tonight?”

“I need to go to Paris. I’ll be there for a few days.”

“Were you planning on telling me you were leaving the country?” Hermione said, glaring at him as she finished trying to tame her hair.

Draco sighed. “It was last minute. I found out yesterday. I was going to tell you, but then…”

“As much as I want to chew you out, I’m going to be late. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Hermione knew it was rude, but she apparated. She needed to be away from him before she lost control of her anger. Why were men such idiots? If she pulled the same stunt, Draco would lose his shit. At least it gave her the space she needed to figure things out. Though she would’ve preferred it to be on her terms. As she walked up to Grimmauld Place, she tried to calm down.

Hermione raised her hand to knock on the door and was surprised when the door flew open before her knuckles hit the wood. Ginny stood there, grinning before pulling her into a hug. Hermione relaxed into her embrace and knew she had made the right decision to see her.

“Come in! I’ll have Kreacher make us tea,” the redhead said, pulling Hermione along into the house until they reached the sitting room.

Hermione had been surprised when Harry and Ginny had chosen to move into Sirius’s old home. It was a townhouse full of ghosts and memories of the war. She shuddered when she remembered that summer they spent cleaning under Mrs Weasley’s watchful eye. With the war going on, they had never finished the job.

Once Harry and Ginny had decided to move in, it had taken them a full summer with Kreacher’s help to get the townhouse move-in ready. Then, the renovations began. And now, it looked like a different place. No longer was it filled with dreariness and evidence of the war. Now, it was full of light and space.

“How’s the morning sickness?” Hermione asked, sitting down, “Harry told me that it’s been pretty bad.”

Ginny nodded. “It was never this bad with James. I’ve tried every potion Mum’s thrown my way, but nothing seems to make it go away.”

“Where is James?”

“I sent him to Mum’s for the day. I had a feeling that we’d need to talk without interruptions,” she said, pausing when Kreacher distributed the drinks, “Harry told me things looked a little strained between you and Draco at the party.”

Hermione cupped the warm mug, taking comfort in its heat. “Things have been tense for some time. Yesterday, he offered to give me everything in a divorce.”

The redhead seemed surprised at her declaration. “Are things truly that bad?”

“Yes, and no. I don’t know how to explain it. Things have been tense since he decided to run for Minister for Magic.”

“I think we were all surprised by his decision to go into politics.”

“The biggest problem was that he didn’t run it by me. It wasn’t a discussion, a choice we decided to make together. One day, he made the decision, and that was that. And ever since he started campaigning, he’s been a different person.”

“Are you scared he’s gone back to his old ways?”

The dream—the one that had felt so real—returned, but she didn’t share it with Ginny. Hermione wanted to laugh at herself. When did she put so much stock in dreams? Even now, she almost felt like she could feel the sting of the snake’s bite. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but he stopped confiding in me. I know he’s been talking to his old friends again.”

“What does Draco say to all this?”

“He says that it’s part of running for Minister. I don’t know. All we do is fight these days, or we avoid each other.”

Ginny poured herself more tea, mulling over what she’d said. “What aren’t you saying?”

“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. Draco’s different. He’s secretive. He’s barely home, and when he is, he’s not mentally there. I tried to be supportive, to be there. But it’s like he’s someone else,” Hermione explained, wiping her tears, “Only, there are these moments where it’s almost like he’s himself again. And it makes it so hard for me to decide on what to do. I want to stay, but I also want to leave.”

“Yeah, I know a bit about that. Don’t look so surprised,” Ginny said with a little laugh, “One time, Harry went on a mission. When he came back, he was different. He couldn’t sleep, wasn’t eating. I tried to get him to tell me what was going on, but he kept pushing me away. There came the point where I seriously thought about leaving him too.”

Hermione was surprised. Neither Harry nor Ginny had confided this in her. They’d always seemed so in love, so rock solid. Their relationship had always seemed so easy. They hadn’t had to fight to be together like she and Draco had. Everyone called them the Golden Couple. She and Draco were always referred to as the Star-Crossed Lovers. Even now, and they’d been married for years. The media loved their tragedies.

“What did you do?” she asked.

Ginny set her teacup down. “I packed my bags, and I went to the Burrow. I was tired of fighting with him, never getting anywhere. Mum wanted me to give him another chance, but I was done,” Ginny said, “But Harry snapped out of it. He came to the Burrow, and we spent hours talking. He told me about the case, what happened, and why he was so destroyed by it. I told him what was going on with me. It took some time to rebuild what we had, but that night was a start.”

“I’m glad. I can’t imagine a world where you guys aren’t together.”

“Me neither. And I think the same of you and Draco. Now don’t get me wrong, we were all sceptical when you first started dating. But I can’t imagine anyone else complementing you the way he does.”

“So, you think he’s going through something?”

“It sounds like it. But you know Draco best.”

Hermione sighed. “It doesn’t feel like it, but I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

“Where did he go?”

“To Paris, apparently. He told me he was going there for a few days, right as I was leaving to see you. I think he’ll be gone when I return.”

She winced. “That’s not great.”

“No, I was livid. It’s like we get so close to fixing things, and then Draco does something to ruin it. Let’s stop talking about the sad state of my marriage,” Hermione said, “Have you decided if you’re going to find out the baby’s sex?”

The two witches continued to talk about lighter things for the rest of the visit. Hermione was glad she’d been able to confide in Ginny. It was a relief to know that she wasn’t the only one with marriage problems, that Harry and Ginny also had their own challenges. And that they had managed to work through it. It gave her hope that she and Draco could too.

When it was time to go, Hermione hugged Ginny and flooed home to an empty house.

#

Draco had been gone two days, and Hermione was still at a loss on what she wanted to do. She’d taken advantage of their silent home. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could finally relax knowing that Draco wouldn’t return home suddenly. He had sent her a quick letter yesterday, giving her an update on the trip and telling her when he’d be returning.

Though the update was hardly necessary. The press was following her husband around as he went to different events and lunches. Hermione had picked up a copy of The Daily Prophet on her way into work today and looked at the latest gossip surrounding her husband. The articles themselves were quite dull. They reported on his whereabouts, who he was with, but that was it. There weren’t any headlines hinting of marital problems or affairs.

She leaned in to have a better look at the photographs. There was no trace of stress on his expression. If Hermione was honest with herself, it looked like he was in his element. Hermione sat back in her office chair and ran her finger over the imagined wound from her dream the other night. The question Ginny asked echoed in her mind. Was she scared that Draco had gone back to his old ways?

Even if that dream had really happened, what would it even mean? Was Voldemort somehow back? Or was Draco cursed? But Hermione stopped herself before she could get carried away. Maybe it was easier to make excuses for him than to admit that Draco was moving on without her. Voldemort had been defeated. His dark mark had still been blotchy the morning after.

But the idea wouldn’t leave her. Near the end of her workday, Hermione decided it wouldn’t hurt to go to the archives. Using her protective spells, she left her office for the day and made her way to the Department of Mysteries Archives. Their library was legendary. Ancient tomes filled the shelves, books that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Some sections were separated into the different unspeakable subsections, and only those belonging to that subsection could access those books.

The library was one of the things she’d most looked forward to when she got hired. And though it was known for its rare finds, it also had another reputation. It was unorganised chaos. Other than having separated subsections, nothing else had a place. Books were piled as high as possible and if you wanted to find a specific volume, good luck. Even Accio couldn’t help. If the book you wanted was in the middle of a stack, the tomes above it would fall to the ground in a huge heap.

She’d tried to talk to the librarian about implementing some kind of organisational system. Hermione had written out the different methods for her and offered to help her with the work. But the librarian, Miss Spencer, had refused. Apparently, the chaos was part of the archive’s charm.

As she walked through the library doors, Hermione wanted to pull her hair out at the mess. But she continued to the first stack—ignoring the librarian’s wave—and started looking for something, anything that would help set her mind at ease about her nightmare.

She needed answers.


	4. Chapter 4

Though her initial search through the archives didn't yield any results, Hermione couldn't let go of the idea that something was wrong with Draco. She wanted to find something, anything that would justify her gut feeling. But time was running out. Her husband would return that night. In his last letter, he'd made it clear that he wanted to talk about where they stood. And as much as Hermione wanted to figure things out, she couldn't do that until she knew what was going on. Her decision would hinge on whether something sinister was at work, or whether they were simply moving in different directions.

Shutting the massive tome, Hermione looked at the other books she'd grabbed. The problem was that she didn't know what she was looking for. Her search was vague. Should she be researching dark magic? Curses? Possession? Dark magic and curses were huge categories. Hermione needed more specifics, things to narrow it down.

"Two days in a row," Miss Spencer commented, "You know, I'm surprised that I haven't seen you in here more with your reputation as a bookworm."

Hermione rubbed her tired eyes. Would it be rude to tell her that the unorganised mess distracted her? "My last project dealt more with the world than magical. There weren't any resources here that I needed."

"Is there something you're looking for in particular? You have quite the collection of books here."

"I don't know what I'm searching for. I have a gut feeling about something, and I'm trying to find something that supports it."

"Sometimes, I find it best to go back to the basics," Miss Spencer said.

She furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Make a mind map. Jot down what you do know and have a look at it as a whole. Sometimes, that visual helps us recognise patterns or connections that seem unrelated at first glance," the librarian said before returning to her desk.

Hermione wanted to ignore her suggestion. It was obvious, something out of Research 101. But, she needed all the help she could get. Pulling out her writing supplies from her bag, she started jotting down what she knew so far.

_The Mystery:_

_\- Behaviour change, started six months ago_

_\- Decided to go into politics, why?_

_\- Says he wants to change the world for the better…but previously was scared of getting corrupted by power à what changed?_

_\- Reconnected with old crowd_

_\- Secretive_

_\- But has moments where he's his old self_

_\- Possible dark mark change (pretending for a moment it wasn't a dream)_

_\- Looks new again, is his the only one that looks this way?_

_\- Changed colours from black to green_

_\- Dark magic potent at site_

_\- Possibly attacked by the mark?_

She bit the end of her quill as she looked over her list. If you took away the dark mark notes, it wasn't a lot to work with. Again, Hermione wondered if she wasn't making excuses for him. Maybe he was slipping back into his old ways. And there wasn't anything she could do to stop that. Draco was his own man.

But, following her flight of fancy, Hermione continued to ponder her problem: What was going on with her husband? Pretending that he wasn't just returning to his old ways—which she couldn't believe, they'd been through too much for that to happen—could it be a possession? But that also didn't sound right. There were none of the signs that Harry had described when Voldemort had possessed him. It also didn't seem like the time Ginny had been possessed by the diary either. And though Draco was different, he still was himself at his core.

Was an old friend trying to turn him back towards Voldemort's cause? Though, Hermione found this last idea hard to believe. Draco had married her, the muggle-born. After the war, she and Draco had leaned on each other heavily to heal from the trauma. She couldn't believe that he'd go back to believing in blood status. Not after everything they'd been through.

But his behaviour was different, and his mark was concerning. What if it wasn't a person? Could magic turn someone?

Of course, it could. That's exactly what the locket had done to her, Harry, and Ron. Hermione knew deep down that they'd destroyed Voldemort in the Final Battle. There was no way he could come back from that death.

But, what if the dark mark was involved? There was so little known about the magic Voldemort used to create it, nor did they know the full function of his mark. Maybe there was something that spread from mark to mark? Or something caused a reaction within the dark magic that's subtly influencing Draco?

As if conjured by the idea, her finger stung where the snake had bit her in her dream. Shaking away the phantom pain, at least this gave her a direction to explore. There was a way to find out if her brainstorming session had merit. She'd heard through the grapevine that an Unspeakable was researching Voldemort and his rise to power. Maybe this colleague would know more about the dark mark.

It was worth a shot.

Hermione brought her books to Miss Spencer's desk.

"Were you able to figure it out?" the librarian asked.

"Possibly. Do you know who I would talk to if I wanted to know more about Voldemort?"

Miss Spencer frowned. "Why would you want to relive that?"

"I think there might be a connection with the project I'm working on. I just want to double-check," Hermione lied. After everything she'd been through with Harry and Ron, lying well had become second nature.

"Well, I suppose you'd want to talk to Daphne Greengrass. Everyone knows that she's been researching the dark mark."

Thanking Miss Spencer, Hermione made her way back to her office to check in on her team. She barely knew Daphne Greengrass. They had been in the same year at Hogwarts. Greengrass was a Slytherin but had stayed out of the spotlight. Draco's school day stories never included the blonde witch either. Had Greengrass been present at the Final Battle? Had she returned for her eighth year?

Hermione was saved from feeling guilty by her finger. The pain was getting worse, and it wasn't her imagination. This wasn't normal. Colleagues said hi as she passed them, but she was too focused on getting to her office so that she could properly inspect her finger. It looked normal from her glances at it, but the pain indicated that something was wrong. Should she go to St Mungo's? What would she say? That she touched her husband's dark mark and now her finger throbbed? They'd probably send her to a mind healer.

When her office door came into view, she quickened her step. Hermione entered her office, shut her door, and grabbed her wand. There was still no physical sign that something was wrong. Maybe she was losing her mind. This had happened in a dream! Why would she be affected by it? Unless it had been real all along. That thought was terrifying. She cast diagnostic spells, but couldn't find anything wrong.

Looking around her office for anything that might help, she frowned when she saw Excalibur. It was lying in the corner of her office, on a table she used to keep relics or other essential things on (keeping her desk free of clutter). Why had her team dropped it off? Had they figured out the magical properties? Was it safe?

Despite her caution, Hermione was drawn to the sword. It was magnificent. If she hadn't seen it in the tomb, she wouldn't have believed it to be Excalibur. The blade had runes etched on it—no one knew the translation, but they were working on it—and there were no signs it had ever seen battle. But it wasn't the blade that her attention was focused on. It was the handle. At the end of it, there was a round…stone? It was a translucent clear blue. Hermione had never seen anything like it before.

She reached out to touch it with her injured finger. Later, she'd reflect on her stupidity in touching the enchanted object. But it was like someone else was controlling her body and she touched the stone. Hermione jumped when a black tendril escaped her hurt finger and was pulled into the sword.

Once it was fully absorbed, the sword flashed and the spell she'd been under was broken.

Dazed, Hermione retreated and collapsed into her chair. What had just happened? The allure of the sword had disappeared since it absorbed the dark magic. Now, she felt refreshed. Hermione hadn't noticed how much energy that thing was taking from her. It frightened her that the dark tendril had been able to avoid her detection spells.

One thing was certain: She wasn't going crazy. Draco's mark was different, and something sinister was at work.

She wanted to find Daphne Greengrass immediately but knew that she needed to check on her team first. Hermione had spent most of the workday focusing on Draco. And though she was desperate for answers, she also needed to figure out what Excalibur was doing in her office. It didn't take long for her to make her way to the apparition point.

When she arrived on location, Hermione walked to the camp they'd set up by the tomb. The sun was starting its descent as the morning turned to afternoon. She walked into the tent and was happy to find Greg. He was their magical theory and curse breaker and might know more about what was going on with Excalibur. "Hermione!" he said, looking up wide-eyed from his book, "Sorry, I wasn't expecting you."

"I wanted to make sure that everything's going well. But you're just the person I was looking for."

Greg ruffled his raven hair nervously. "What can I do for you?"

"We're still in the phase where we're keeping everything on-site, correct?"

"Definitely. We've barely made a dent in the inventory."

Hermione's breath caught. "So, as far as you're aware, Excalibur is still in the tomb?"

"Yeah. Albert and I have tried to analyse the sword, but we're a bit out of our element. I still can't make sense of the magical readings we're getting from it. And Albert is still looking into the runes etched on the blade. I think he's closer to figuring that out than I am of figuring out the magical properties," he said, his dark eyes shining with the challenge, "Why do you ask?"

She shook her head, already leaving the tent with him following. Hermione didn't understand what was going on, a feeling she hated. Normally, she would've tried harder to keep her composure. But after the show of magic in her office and everything else going on, Hermione needed answers. Now. When they entered the tomb, Stacy and Roger glanced their way but resumed their work.

Excalibur wasn't there.

"Where is it? It was here this morning," Greg said horrified.

She bit her lip. "It's in my office. I thought one of you had dropped it off, though I didn't understand why."

"What are you talking about?" Stacey asked.

"Excalibur isn't here anymore!" Greg answered.

The bubbly witch frowned. "What? Of course, it's…not here."

"Why didn't we notice it was missing?" Roger said, walking up to join the conversation.

"Could Albert have brought it in?" Hermione asked. Though she knew it was unlikely. There was something in the air, ancient forces at work. Her team members shook their heads. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Greg released a loud exhale. "Okay, let's try to think about this. Why didn't any of us notice it was gone? I don't know about you guys, but I still stop and marvel at it at least a few times a day."

"Do you think it's part of the sword's protection?" Roger chimed in.

"It's strange. Why would it go to Hermione's office?" Stacey asked.

"The only sword I've seen that disappears and appears like that is the Sword of Gryffindor. It only appears when a true Gryffindor has great need of it," Hermione said.

She knew she should tell the team about what had happened in her office. It was related to the project. But it was also deeply personal. No one knew that her marriage was on rocky grounds. Or that Voldemort might be connected to this. As much as she wanted to trust her team, Hermione couldn't trust them with this. She'd look into the dark mark while they continued to look into King Arthur's things.

Greg started to pace. "What if it's like the Sword of Gryffindor? Some artefacts are almost sentient. It's still a subject that we don't know much about."

"Merlin was a Hogwarts student during the Founder's Era. Gryffindor's sword could've inspired him," Roger said, their expert on historical culture.

"I want to test something," Greg said suddenly, "Stacey, can you stand outside the door? I want you to think about what you're doing after work while you do that."

Hermione gave him a strange look, but they humoured their curse breaker.

Stacey left the room, humming a song, then turned around confused. "What are you doing standing around?"

"What were you just doing?" Greg asked.

"I was inspecting a tunic. Why?"

Hermione understood what he was doing. "Do you know where Excalibur is?"

"Yes, it's in the tomb. Right behind you. Is everything alright?"

When Stacey joined them, they caught her up again. She was confused, and if it weren't for the many witnesses, Hermione wasn't sure that the witch would've believed them. "What do you make of this, Greg?"

"Things have gotten a lot more complicated. The sword must be protecting itself, or maybe there's an enchantment on it, I'm not sure. When you brought up Excalibur, I was surprised that I had gotten distracted with analysing something else. I think we'll find that Albert might be in a similar situation. Though the tomb itself doesn't have that effect from what I've noticed, so he should be able to make headway with the runes there. The question is: how are we supposed to work on something that's compelling us to forget it? And why is it doing that"

The group started discussing the different options, and Hermione left them to it. As much as she wanted to stay and toss around theories, there was another mystery that she needed to solve. She wanted to find Greengrass before the workday was over, and look in on Excalibur.

When she returned to the office, Hermione had to stop for directions before heading to Greengrass's office. The door was closed when she arrived, and it looked like the witch was gone for the day. Hermione lingered at the door and wondered what to do. She needed to talk to Greengrass as soon as possible. Was it life-threatening? No. But what happened with the dark mark and Excalibur was worrying.

"Are you looking for Daphne?" a wizard asked, poking his head outside the office next door. "I am, do you know when she'll be back?"

He readjusted his glasses. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I'm a huge fan of yours," he gushed, "She's doing fieldwork right now, and I'm not sure when she'll return. It depends on what happens out in the field."

"Thank you for your help. I'll send her a letter instead," Hermione said.

Glancing at her watch, she noticed it was already the end of the day. She had the thought of talking to Walter about…something related to her project, but she couldn't remember what it was. Hermione shrugged the idea away. Her team would contact her if needed, and they had been fine when she'd visited them. There was no need to get Walter involved.

Hermione followed her co-workers out of the department and made the journey towards the atrium. They did have fireplaces to floo from and a protected apparition point within the department, but that was top secret. Unspeakables were only allowed to use them throughout the workday when working on projects. It would've been so nice to skip the queue to the fireplaces in the atrium, but it was a non-negotiable rule. Otherwise, people outside their department would ask too many questions if they weren't part of the daily commute.

Peering over the crowd, she looked for Harry and Ron. She wished that the non-disclosure contract didn't extend to them. They would help her figure this out in a heartbeat. No one knew Voldemort as they did. Harry especially. But unfortunately, they couldn't help. Not anymore.

Huffing at the slow-moving crowd—there had to be a better way of commuting—she contemplated sending Greengrass a letter. Hermione did want to reach her, but what was she supposed to say in her message? _Hi, remember me from school? I'm scared my husband's dark mark is making him go down a dark path. Help?_ It was ridiculous. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask the blonde witch for a meeting. Hermione could say that it was Unspeakable business and leave it at that.

When she finally reached the front of the queue, Hermione wanted to celebrate. Instead, she threw the floo powder in, said her location, and breathed a sigh of relief when she arrived home. She paused for a second to hear if Draco had returned early, but the house was silent. She went about her after work routine—which included changing into her muggle clothes as soon as possible—and made tea, before taking a seat in the sitting room.

Before she could change her mind, Hermione sent Greengrass that letter—the Unspeakable business version. It was crazy that it was easier to believe she'd imagined the past few days, then deal with the implications. Again, Hermione wanted to confide in her best friends. She always felt like she could conquer the world with them by her side. As she thought of them, she remembered their last meal together, and her mouth went dry. Ron had told her that they'd found another murdered Death Eater. Was it possible that Draco was connected to that? Hermione didn't believe in coincidences. But how could Draco's mark be related to those deaths?

Before her husband left on his trip, Hermione was convinced that they had typical marital problems. It was crazy how much had changed in a day. The warmth of her teacup soothed her. Tea had always been a source of comfort for her, though maybe something stronger was in order. As tempting as it was, Hermione needed a clear head.

Her husband was in danger. It was crazy that she recently thought she'd fallen out of love with him. All it took was a threat against him for her feelings to come rushing back and with it, determination. She'd find a way to save him or die trying.

When Draco arrived, Hermione rushed to him. He caught her as she barrelled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed him. Draco hesitated for a moment—probably because he still had his suitcase in hand—before dropping it and returning her kiss. Hermione deepened it while his hands moved lower, pulling her closer.

"We should talk," he said between kisses.

She'd been tempted to ignore his interruption, but when she saw at him, _really_ saw him, she realised how awful he looked. He was paler than when she'd last seen him, and he had bags under his eyes. Hermione had been so caught up in her discovery and realising she still was in love with him that she hadn't considered what he'd been going through.

"Did you sleep at all when you were in Paris?"

Draco sighed. "How could I sleep when we'd left things the way we did?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. She attempted to move away from him, but he held her in place.

"I don't want you to stop," he said, kissing her temple, "But we need to make sure we're on the same page before continuing."

"I want to work through this. I've had a few days to realise what my life would be like without you in it, and it's not a life I want," she said, mentally adding And I need to save you from whatever is going on.

He wiped the tear she hadn't realised had fallen. "I'm sorry I've been such an arse. It hit me in Paris that things between us might be over. No matter what happens, I need you by my side."

"Then you need to let me in."

"I will. Sometimes, I wish you needed me as I need you."

"Of course I need you," Hermione said, playing with the hem of his shirt. She hated being vulnerable. "You're my rock, my support system. You're the only one that ever really saw me."

"We both know that's a lie."

She laughed, surprised. "It's true. You saw me in a way no one else ever has."

The way he looked at her set her body on fire. It would take less than a second to cross the distance between them, but something stopped her. She needed to be sure. Though she wanted to look at his mark, Hermione resisted the urge. "Am I safe with you?"

"Always. I'd never let anything happen to you."

"So, we're giving this our best shot?"

"We are," he said.

Draco started kissing her inner wrist, the feather touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He looked more alive than he had when he'd first come home. Hermione was still nervous about his mark, but Excalibur helped last time so it could help again. She'd just avoid contact with it. Not that Draco had ever liked her touching his dark mark. She was taking a risk, but she'd do whatever it took to save him.

"I love you," she said, taking his hand, "Let's go to bed."

He squeezed her hand. "I love you too."

She knew that there was still a lot of work to be done, but it was a start. Wherever this path led, Hermione would follow it to the end.


End file.
